


The Monster of Notre Dame

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural, The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Religious Content, tags will be added as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:39:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hunchback of Notre Dame!au where Castiel is nephillim, a child born of the love between a human woman and an angel of the Lord. But Castiel's mother is a gypsy, and after being murdered by the reigning Judge Zachariah, her black-winged child falls into the care of the church. Castiel, convinced by Judge that he is of demonic descent and therefore a danger to all, spends his life in the bell tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Morning in Paris, the city awakes  
To the Bells of Notre Dame_

_The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes  
To the Bells of Notre Dame_

_To the big bells as loud as the thunder  
To the little bells soft as a pslam_

_And some say the soul of the city’s the toll of the bells  
The Bells of Notre Dame_

  
A gypsy man of golden eyes sings to the children by his cart of the bells of Notre Dame. He sings to them the story of the hidden bell ringer, high up in the church’s towers.

“Because, you know, they don’t ring all by themselves. Up there, high high in the the dark bell tower, lives the mysterious bell ringer. Who is this creature? What is he? How did he come to be there? Clopin will tell you. It is a tale, a tale of a man, and monster!”

  
_Dark was the night when our tale was begun_  
_On the docks near Notre Dame._  


The sudden wail of an infant the only sound in the dark of night.  
“Shut him up, we’ll be spotted!”

“Hush, my angel!”

_Three frightened gypsies slid silently under_  
_The docks near Notre Dame._  
  
_But a trap had been laid for the gypsies_  
 _And they gazed up in fear and alarm_  
  
_At a figure whose clutches_  
 _Were iron as much as the bells_  
  
“Judge Zachariah!”

_The Bells of Notre Dame_

_Judge Zachariah longed to purge the world_  
_Of vice and sin_  
 _And he saw corruption everywhere_  
 _Except within_

“Bring these heathen to the Palace of Justice,” commanded Zachariah. “What is that woman hiding; stolen goods no doubt, take them from her.

“No, please!” _She ran_. She ran as fast as her body would take her, holding the bundle close to her chest, casting up prayers to an angel above, to “please come back and help her!” Zachariah chased after her, a charging shadow flying over the snow. He chased her through narrow streets and lost her as she jumped with her child over a gate toward Notre Dame. “Sanctuary, please give us Sanctuary!” the woman cried as she banged on the heavy church doors, but Zachariah had caught up, taking the wrapped bundle away from her, and kicking her down to the steps.

The bundle in Zachariah’s arms began to cry and move. “A baby?” whispered the judge. He opened the blankets to look at the child, but what he saw, shocked and frightened him to his core. Along with the blanket, the child was wrapped up in its own dark wings. “A monster!” Zachariah quickly covered the creature as his eyes quickly fell on a well. “You will not breathe your vileness here.”

“Stop!” cried the archdeacon.

“This is an unholy demon, born from the Pit below. It could kill us all! I’m sending it back to Hell, where it belongs.”

“Can’t you see where your hate as led you to? Can’t you see the innocent blood you have spilt, on the steps of Notre Dame.”

“I am faultless. The gypsy woman ran, I pursued.”

“Would you add the blood of this child to the steps of Notre Dame?”

“My conscience is clear!”

“You can lie all you want to yourself and your minions. Deny any qualms, but never can you hide what you’ve done from the very eyes of Notre Dame”

Zachariah looked up, and to his horror, he saw eyes. All the eyes of all the saints staring back at him. Hard and unforgiving eyes that bore through to his very core.

_And for the first time in his life of power and control  
Zachariah felt a twinge for his immortal soul_

  
“No… What must I do?” Zachariah looked to the archdeacon. The archdeacon stood, the dead gypsy in his arms, he looked to her face, full of pain and sadness even in death.

“Care for the child. Raise it as your own.”

“What? I’m supposed to care for this abom… Fine, but he must live here, in your church.”

“Live here? But where?”

“Keep him someplace where no one else may ever see him. And who knows, our Lord works in mysterious way, maybe someday this foul creature may be of use to me.”

And Zachariah gave the child a cruel name. A name that means “half-formed”… Quasimodo.

_Now here is a riddle to guess if you can_  
_Sing the bells of Notre Dame._  
 _Who is the monster and who is the man?_

_Sing the bells, bells, bells bells,_  
_Bells, bells, bells, bells,_  
 _Bells of Notre Dame!_


	2. Chapter 2

Time passes, as time tends to do, and Notre Dame’s secret, the child named Quasimodo, grows up learning to fear not only the outside world, but also himself. For he is convinced he is an abomination of Hell, already damned to return to the place of his origin, yet he does as he is told. He prays to God for forgiveness and mercy, for being what he is. Raised under the watch of his master Zachariah, not once does he leave the church.  
  
And for twenty-five years, the people of Paris spread rumors of the demon living within the church. Of a horned and winged creature, with glowing red eyes, that roams the bell tower, growing larger every year. The people often claim to hear heavy footsteps from above, or to see a strange shadow creeping through the passageways. Stories told to children of a dark demon that would snatch them up if they misbehaved. Rumors of Judge Zachariah being the only one who could control the creature.

Yet, despite all his fears and all his lessons, this winged creature couldn’t help but long to be with other people. From his tower, he spent his days looking down below him. He closed his eyes and pictured what it would feel like to pass a day, not above them, but with them. Walking around the square, and stopping by the vendors, breathing in the smell of their fresh goods. He let the thought go as he heard stirring beside him, out on the balcony. Turning to the nest settled between the wings of a gargoyle, he smiled at the blue bird sitting there, stretching its wings slowly.

“Hello, little one. Do you think today’s the day? Are you ready to fly?” The bird, who seemed to understand him, chirped softly, bringing its wings closer to its body, hiding in his hands as he picked him up. “Are you sure? If I picked a day to fly, today would be it, the Festival of Fools! There will be music and dancing and people laughing – hah, look!” The little bird had been flapping its wings in excitement, not realizing he had begun to fly until he looked down below him. “Go on, no one wants to be cooped up here forever.” And with a final chirp, the bird flew away.

“Oh, thank the heavens! I thought he’d never leave, I’ve wanted to move for days now.” The gargoyle yelled as he came to life.

“That’s what you get for being such a prick all the time, Gabriel.”

“Oh, shut up Balthazar. You’re no angel yourself.”

“Do you two ever stop? I would like to know what Castiel is looking at if you don’t mind!”

Castiel flinches at hearing his name. He had the dream again last night. And no matter how happy it made him to hear someone call him that, even if it was by gargoyles only he could talk to, he sometimes wished they wouldn’t. Sometimes when Zachariah took longer to come see him, he would forget. Forget that his name was Quasimodo, not Castiel like the woman in his dream kept telling him. But the gargoyles never called him Quasimodo anymore.

“Good morning, Anna. Can you guess what today is?” The gargoyles all gather closer to the edge of the balcony, looking over.

“What’s going on? A fight? A flogging?” asked Gabriel.

“It’s a festival!” shouted Anna.

“You mean the Feast of Fools? It is a treat to watch the colorful pageantry of the simple peasant folk.”

“Nothing beats watching the ol’ F.O.F., right, Cassie?”

“Yeah… watching. Also, that’s not my name, Gabriel.” Castiel turned and started walking back inside, slowly making his way over to his table. A model of the village covering its entirety.

“Hey, wait, where are you going?” asked Balthazar.

“Aren’t you going to watch the festival with us? Cassie?”

“Do you think he’s sick?”

“Impossible. If listening to you two squabble his whole life hasn’t made him sick by now, then nothing will!” threw in Anna as she made her way to Castiel.

“But the Feast of Fools is his favorite time of the year.”

“Yeah, but what good is watching the party, if you never get to go yourself. He’s not made of stone like everything else in here.   
Castiel, what’s wrong? You want to tell your best friend Anna what you’re thinking about?”

“Nothing is wrong. I… I just don’t feel like watching the festival, is all.”

“Well, have ever thought about going there, instead of watching from up here?” asked Balthazar.

“Sure, of course I have. It’s not like I have much to do up here, but, uh. I can’t, I’d never fit in down there. I’m not… normal.”

“Cassie, darling. As your friends and guardians, we insist that you attend the festival!”

“Wait, what? Me?”

“No, the Madonna. Yes, you! Are there any other Castiels here?”

“You could go see them play their music!”  
“Try some new food”  
“Dance with a pretty girl!”  
“Drink some wine!”

While Gabriel and Balthazar bounced some more ideas back and forth, Anna pulled Castiel aside, bringing him down to her level.

“Listen Castiel, take it from an old gargoyle. Life is not a spectator’s sport. If watching is all you plan to do with your life, then you’ll just be watching it go on without you.”

“Yeah, Cassie! Just grab a fresh set of pants and le...”

“Just, hold on. Slow down. You are forgetting two very important things.”

“Oh yeah? What?” asked a confused Balthazar.

“Well first of all, I’m not exactly human. How am I supposed to go down there looking like this? I’ll end up sending the town up panic the second some poor human looks at my wings! I mean, really, look!” He quickly pushed himself back away from the table, raising his arms up by his sides. Castiel had definitely grown over the years, standing now at just under six feet tall, but his wings had grown as well. He spread them wide now, giving them a much needed stretch. A pair wings the color of the night sky, twenty feet in span quickly filled the room. “I can’t go out with these!”

“Sure you could! It’s the feast of fools, you could pass them off as a costume.” Suggested Balthazar.

“Or you could put on a big cloak, make it look like you have a giant hunch.” Added Gabriel.

“That would never work. Plus, you’re forgetting the other important thing.   
My master, Zachariah.”

“Oh, yeah…” the gargoyles mumbled.

“Well, when he said that you were forbidden from leaving the bell tower, did he mean _ever_ ever?”

“ _Never_ ever! And he absolutely hates the feast of fools. He’d be so furious if I even considered asking to go.”

“Who says you gotta ask?”

“Gabriel. No.”

“Ya just sneak out…”

“It’s just one afternoon.” Offered Anna. “He’ll never know you were gone.”

“But, I couldn’t-“

“… and ya sneak back in!”

“But, he will see me.”

“And, that’s why you could wear a disguise. Just this once, Cassie. What Zachariah doesn’t know can’t hurt you.”

“Castiel, nobody wants to stay cooped up here forever.”

“You’re right. I’ll go!” exclaimed Castiel, walking by the cheering gargoyles. “I’ll get dressed up, walk down those stairs, through the doors and …” Castiel came to a dead halt.

“Good morning, Quasimodo.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you can think of any tags to add as the story progresses let me know.


End file.
